Google Translate Giggles.

So, lately many of my former students have encountered me on Facebook and I have received an influx of friend requests. I am happy to accept them (even from the kids who used to drive me loco).  I love that we have a way to stay in touch and it makes my heart flutter to see them try to Facebook chat with me in English. 

I suspect, though, that a lot of their attempts at English is really Google-Translate's attempt at English. Whatever, at least they are kind of trying? This leads to some adorable results and interesting conversations.

I got the best message today from a 4th grader named Mario who, bless his heart, would probably be better off skipping the Google-translate option and sticking with what he has learned in school. Even if it is only "Hello, I am Mario, I have 10 year".

Not exactly sure when I am going to "become sperm", but I look forward to that day.

And this, folks, is why you should never trust online translators.

(This doesn't really say too much about my teaching abilities, does it?)

Watch the video to view another example of Google Translate gone wrong.

Bad Times in Barcelona

Inspired by Cat's recent blog post on her less-than-favorable opinion about the city, I've decided to chronicle my (mis)adventure in Barcelona way back in May of 2010.  I kept this blog back then and actually wrote a post about how I felt about Barca the first time I visited, but I was a lousy updater and wrote lazy entries. I realized that I have a lot of funny stories that I never shared. It will also explain why I cringe a little bit whenever I think of Barcelona. I don't exactly have fond memories of the place. So no, Cat, you're not the only one!

Back in the spring of 2010 I was studying abroad in my beloved Granada, having the time of my life. May had arrived, and my roomie and I decided to have one more adventure before we had to head back to the good old USA. We booked a dirt-cheap flight to Paris and spent three days butchering French, going to museums, and eating plenty of camembert cheese on parisian baguettes. Paris itself was flipping awesome (but I'll save that story for another time).

P and I having good timez at Versailles. Little did we know...

Before we left our hostel to catch our flight from Beauvis-Madrid, P received an email update on her phone that said that the damn Icelandic volcano had erupted yet again and was generally being a pain-in-the-ass for the second time. The RyanAir website  didn't say anything about our flight being cancelled, nor did she receive any email nor notification during the entire 1.5 ride from Paris to Beauvis. But I still had a pit at the bottom of my stomach. Something just didn't feel right.

So, we got to the airport and my stomach flips over as I saw a sign in the window that says "ALL FLIGHTS TO MADRID CANCELLED". UM EXCUSE ME, WHAT?! I started to panic and P and I rushed inside the teeny airport. There esd a crowd of people trying to get to the front desks. P and I somehow managed to push ourselves through and received confirmation that yes, our flight is cancelled.

I'm in tears at this point. The thing is, our final exams were the following week. It was Sunday and I didn't have an actual exam until Tuesday, but I was supposed to meet with a professor on Monday to present my final project. So we attempted to look up bus schedules and train schedules, only to see that everything was already sold out. We called our study abroad directors in Granada and spent probably 5 euro/minute trying to explain our situation and begging them to get in touch with our professors. They assured us that they would, but said that there was no other way they could help us and that we were on our own in terms of getting back to Granada (WTF?)

P and I were debating just taking a bus back to Paris and staying another night or trying to rent a car an driving to Spain, when we heard an announcement that there was ONE flight that was operating to Barcelona with 21 spots, and that they would give the spots away in a lottery system. I sprinted to the window and pushed my way forward to try to talk to the attendant. I was extraordinarily lucky and spoke to a very nice woman who spoke English and whose body was built from sympathetic bones. With tears in my eyes, I explained to her that P and I were students and that we had exams the next day in Spain, and that we had nowhere to go or sleep or no friends or ANYTHING. I might as well have been on my knees, that's how much I was begging with this woman. She told me that she would put our names on the list but could guarantee nothing, that there were 200 people also looking for a flight to Spain.

About an hour later P and I were still trying to plan our escape when we hear another announcement; the names of the people selected for the flight to Barcelona. People were waiting with baited breath, and I felt like I was going to pass out. Suddenly, I heard my name. Then, P's name. I couldn't believe it. Who ever said that the French don't like Americans? That blonde French attendant managed to get us on that flight, together!

P and I had to sprint through security with a flight attendant in tow (and cut the long line) in order to get onto this flight before takeoff. It's about 11 PM and we were exhausted; we had been sitting around waiting in the airport for about 4 hours. The flight itself wasn't bad--we landed in Barcelona around 1 AM and took a 45 minute bus ride into the city. During this time, P and I decided that our best course of action would be to take the AVE train  Barcelona-Madrid, and then catch a bus from Madrid to Granada.

 We decided to make our way over to the train station.  It was late, and we were tired and just wanted to chillax inside the warm train station. As it turns out, the train station closes?!  What the heck. It was the middle of the night and we were  without any euros in our pockets,  in a big city, in a sketchy area. I saw a lot of people that looked suspiciously like drug addicts and prostitutes hanging out all around us. We contemplated trying to walk around and trying to find a hostel, but were scared that we would get lost and/or get mugged. When I tell you that there was literally not a policeman or taxi in sight, I'm not kidding. I thought that Barcelona was like NYC in terms of being a city that never sleeps but apparently everyone was tired that night.

I called my parents, who were trying to urge P and I to find a hotel and to put it on their credit card. Yeah, wasn't gonna happen... we could already tell that we were in a sketchy part of the city and there was no way we were gonna wander around, alone, at 2 AM! This is why Smart Phones are so useful....if only we had our IPhones back then! I found out later that my parents did not sleep a wink that night.

So, we sat on the cold concrete outside of the Barcelona train station and we. waited. until. 5 AM. It was very cold. and damp, and there was a guy in the corner sleeping on cardboard and muttering to himself. All I wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but I had too many valuables on my person and didn't exactly feel safe around the company that surrounded us. To make matters worse, nothing around us was open--there was not a bar in the vicinity!-- so we had nothing to eat, and only stared in gloomy silence as the hours slowly ticked by. I swear it was the longest night ever.

I was never so happy to see 5 AM in my life. As soon as the doors opened, we purchased AVE tickets (100 euro--ouch) and found a McDonalds with a euro menu inside the station. Freaking SCORE. A double cheeseburger never tasted so good.

Menos mal.

To make an already long story shorter, we took the AVE to Madrid and were able to hop on a bus to Granada. We got into the city almost 24 hours later than planned.  I still missed my presentation with my professor, but I showed him all of my ticket stubs/proof and it wasn't a problem at all (honestly, I'm not sure he cared that much)--he just told me no pasa nada. Of course.

So yep, this is basically why I don't have fond memories of the city. I realize that it wasn't Barcelona's fault--it was just a sticky situation. But it's kind of like when you get a stomach virus and can't stand the sight of the food that you ate right before you threw up everywhere. It's not the foods fault, it's the fault of virus--but still, you find that you simply can't be near the food without your stomach doing somersaults! That's how I feel about Barcelona.

Obviously, I'm open to giving the city another try. I so badly want to see the magic that everyone feels when they go to Barcelona. Maybe next year.

February: A Comparison

February 2012

Sitting in the warm sunshine in Plaza Nueva in Granada, eating gelato and loving life.

compared to.....

February 2013

Shoveling my car out of 38 inches of snow, and hating life.

Not really sure there is a comparison here.

P.S. Why in the world did they (whoever 'they' are) decide to name this monster storm 'Nemo'? Nemo was an adorable orange clown fish. There is nothing adorable about this snow. NOTHING.

My ABC's of Travel

MY ABC’s OF TRAVEL

A: Age you went on your first international trip:

Oh god. Let me think. I think that I was about 12 when we took a cruise that stopped in Mexico? But that was just a port stop for a day, the first time I took a real international trip was when I was 16 and my family took a 10 day tour of Italy.

B: Best (foreign) beer you’ve had and where:

I love a good beer. It's my drink of choice, as long as it's not high school garbage like Coors Light or Bud Light (gross!) I really loved the beer in Munich, but my FAVORITE beer would probably be the Guinness that I drank at the Guinness Factory in Dublin. Straight from the source--can't get any better than that! And after months of drinking only Cruzcampo and Alhambra, it really hit the spot.

Paulaner Weissbier in Munich

At the Gravity Bar in Dublin

C: Cuisine (favorite):

I love to eat good food. I'm not picky--I like different cuisines for different reasons. The spiciness of Indian and Mexican foods, the simplicity of Spanish dishes, the heartiness of Scottish cuisine--I love it all. Italian, Hungarian, French--I can't decide! Give me all the food!


D: Destinations, favorite, least favorite and why:

Granada will always hold a special place in my heart. I feel like I have to say it is one of my favorite cities. In terms of places I have visited, I really was enamored with Edinburgh. I totally did not expect to fall in love with that gem of a city like I did--I felt like I was transported back in time. It is truly a magical place.

Edinburgh Castle

"Diagon Alley" in Edinburgh

 My least favorite city would probably be Bratislava, Slovakia. It was really a stopover for me and I was not expecting much, and I didn't get much. I also was not a huge fan of Barcelona, although there were some outside circumstances that effected my trip. I would be more than willing to give it a second shot. Maybe next year?

E: Event you experienced abroad that made you say “wow”:

On my first big international trip, driving through Rome and seeing the Trevi fountain. It was my first time in Europe and I was mystified.  I was sleep deprived and bleary eyed from a miserable plane ride, but I remember looking out the window of the bus and thinking "This is amazing".


F: Favorite mode of transportation:

Not planes, that's for sure. Flying makes me want to roll over and vomit. I don't mind buses, but if I have a choice....trains all the way, mostly because you can get up and walk around.

G: Greatest feeling while traveling:

Seeing ancient and famous historical sites that I have read about in books. I'm a big history nerd, so I am bowled over when I see places like the Colosseum and Westminster Abbey.


H: Hottest place you’ve traveled to:

Egypt was so hot that it was almost unbearable. I was pretty much constantly sweating. The worst part was that I had to cover myself up, since Egypt is a Muslim country...so I had to wear long pants and long sleeves! It was miserable.

 I was also very uncomfortable this past spring in Granada---temperatures were hitting 100 degrees almost every day in May! I had no fans nor AC in my apartment. Towards the end of my stay, I was taking showers at night just to cool myself down.

I was sweating my tail off.

I: Incredible service you’ve experienced and where:

Are you ready for this? The answer is--SPAIN! Do you need me to pick you up off the floor, where you fainted from shock? The Spanish are infamous for horrible customer service, but there is a restaurant in Granada called La Oliva that has impeccable service. The owner, Francisco, is warm and friendly and will do anything to make his customers happy--never had service like that in my life. If you are ever in Granada and want an excellent meal, head on over!

J: Journey that took the longest:

The hellish journey from Egypt to Granada. First, we had to take a miserable 7 hours bus ride from Hurghada to Cairo, in which we thought we were going to be shot when we were stopped by Border Control and had our papers inspected by mean, toothless, bearded men. Towards the tail end (THANK GOD) of that 7 hour journey, I felt my stomach start to rumble and do somersaults. I had gotten through the entire trip without getting sick to my stomach, but somehow managed to get sick on my last day. We got to the airport and I rushed to the bathroom and puked my brains out among Muslim women who were washing their hands and feet in preparation for prayer. Talk about humiliation. After a 4 hour flight from Cairo to Prague, we had a 5 hour layover in which I lay, spread eagle, on the floor of the airport, pale faced and weak. Next, a 4 hour flight to Madrid. Then a 5 hour bus from Madrid to Granada. Can I mention again that I had food poisoning for the duration of this 30 hour trip? Never have I been so miserable in my life.


K: Keepsake from your travels:

I'm a bad tourist. I usually just collect ticket stubs, but I tend to lose them. I just take memories away with me ;)

L: Let-down sight, why and where:

The Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I knew that it was under construction, but still. It was a cool building, but the construction took away from of the magic for me.


M: Moment where you fell in love with travel:

I really love to travel, but I hate traveling. I hate plane rides, layovers, packing, timetables. I get very cranky. However, whenever I see an amazing site or connect with a local, I fall in love with travel all over again and am reminded why all the stress and long bus rides are worth it.


N: Nicest hotel you’ve stayed in:

I recall staying in a very nice hotel during my first trip to Italy with my parents, but I can't remember the name. I tend to stay in hostels, since I am a broke student. So I can recommend a few good hostels! :)

Awesome rooftop hangout at a hostel in Luxor, Egypt

O: Obsession—what are you obsessed with taking pictures of while traveling?:

I have found that I tend to take a lot of pictures of churches. I am in awe of very old churches--I can't fathom how they were built and will never tire looking at them. Maybe that's why I loved The Pillars of the Earth so much.

Malaga

Slovakia

Budapest

P: Passport stamps, how many and from where?

Oh god--easily over twenty. I have two visas from Spain and a ton of stamps from over 11 countries.

Q: Quirkiest attraction you’ve visited and where:

Can't think of anything at the top of my head that was too crazy!

R: Recommended sight, event or experience:

I LOVED The Harry Potter tour in Edinburgh! It's still relatively new, so our group was small, but the tour guide is hilarious and very informative. This tour fulfilled all of my nerd fantasies. I mean, I got to carry a wand and was sorted into a House---what is more fun than that?


S: Splurge — something you have no problem forking over money for while traveling:

I'll fork over money for typical wares or famous treats--for example, the Sacher Torte in Austria, or real Egyptian papyrus. One thing I don't like to spend money on, however, is restaurants--I usually have found that street food is the best food (and cheap). I'll only fork over the money if the restaurant has an exceptional reputation or serves a famous dish.

T: Touristy thing you’ve done:

I really don't have much "shame" when it comes to doing touristy things. I'll do it all. I will say that my one regret was that I did not ride a camel in front of the pyramids in Giza. I wish I had gotten that typical tourist photo, but those camels looked and smelled nasty. They were SO MEAN and were hissing and spitting! At the time, there was no way that I was getting up on one....but I wish I had.

Had to take the typical shot in the phone booth in London.

U: Unforgettable travel memory:

I'll just let this picture do the talking:

I got to go to Egypt and see the Pyramids and Sphinx. By the time I was 20 years old! Nothing will ever, ever top that.

V: Visas, how many and for where?

Two from Spain!

W: Wine, best glass of wine while traveling and where?

It's gotta be Spain. SO many excellent, fruity, delicious and cheap wines to choose from. I don't really love red wine by itself but I can drink liters of tinto de verano made from Spanish red.

X: eXcellent view and from where?:

View of the Alhambra in Granada, Spain

Y: Years spent traveling?:

I have been traveling on and off for about three years, but not consecutively. I was in Spain for 4 months in 2010, and for eight months from October 2011 to May 2012. Hoping to make it back next year, but we'll see...


Z: Zealous sports fans and where?:

Spain, of course. One of the first questions that my students asked me last year was, "And what team are you?"

Newtown Massacre

I don't know if I have mentioned on this blog that I am from Connecticut. I have lived here all of my life: I was born in New Haven, lived in Stratford and grew up in Milford, the small city with a big heart. I am a Connecticut girl born and bred.

I never had any reason to fear for my safety, growing up here. I live in a beautiful neighborhood with white fences, where I  played kickball in the street and spent long, hazy summer nights playing Manhunt with my friends.

By now, you have all probably heard of the devastating massacre that took place at Sandy Hook elementary in Newtown, not 40 minutes from where I live. It's not three towns away from me.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that something so horrible happened so close to where I live. My feelings of safety, of security, are broken. This hits so close to home, as a Connecticut resident and as an educator.

Today, as I read the news, I sat in Study Hall, in the high school where I work, and fought to choke back tears. It was such a strange, emotional day to be in a school. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

 I did not know anyone at Sandy Hook, but my heart bleeds for those poor babies, the brave teachers who lost their lives, and their families who will be missing their loved ones this holiday season. I think of all the presents that will remain unopened underneath the Christmas trees.

 Every time I think about what happened, tears come to my eyes. It's so unfair.

I have not yet carried a child in my womb, have not felt him kick nor have I given birth. I have not held my child in my arms against my breast. I cannot even fathom to imagine what the families of these children are feeling right now.

But I have been lucky enough to experience the love of children, pure unconditional love that only comes from their innocence. They did not do anything to deserve this.

I think that I am especially emotional because I worked in an elementary school last year. When I heard about what happened to those children, a sickness churned in my stomach. It felt like my insides were on fire.  All I could see were the faces of  my first grade students from last year.

...I saw Hada, blond hair, blue eyes, with her tangled mess of  hair, who called me "Cutie" and smothered me with hugs and kisses every time I came into class.

...Emilia, with her missing front tooth, who insisted that I call her "Em-ee-lee" and never could quite pronounce my name correctly (CHA-NO, CHA-NO).

...Soft-spoken Rosa, delicate and gentle, who told me every day, "Shanno, I love you.... so much" and who cried the hardest when I left. I held her in my arms and rocked her and told her not to cry, that I would be back to visit someday and that I would not forget her. She just buried her face into my neck and hugged me tighter.

...Javi, with his big blue eyes, who would ask me to check his work and ask 'I did good, teacher? I did good?" ....all he wanted was for my to say "Good job, Javi!"and he would smile big and look so pleased with himself.

....Carlos, who wore a red turtleneck for every class, huge brown eyes and a squeaky voice and the best student, who eagerly raised his hand and could not stop himself from shouting out the answers because he was so excited to learn English.

....and all my other precious, loving, innocent students who touched my life. I see their faces.

I see them, in my head, and can't imagine how someone could ever walk up to them  and shoot them in cold blood. How someone could look into their big eyes and could kill them so mercilessly. They are so innocent and pure, all they want is love and affection and approval. I see their sweet faces and their round eager eyes, I feel their sloppy kisses, their warm hugs.

 It just doesn't make any sense.

Wish that I could hug these guys right now.

My first grade class at CEIP Cervantes. Love them so much.

Words are not enough. I can't hug my students in person, so this is the best that I can do.

 Rest in peace to the students and teachers who lost their lives yesterday. You will not be forgotten.

Yo Soy Muy Espaneesh: Some Habits I've Retained From My Life Abroad

I have been home from Spain for about 6 months now, and am fully immersed back into my American life. I work 40+ hours week, go to class at night, sleep too little, and drink a ton of overly sugary, watery coffee. I pay way too much for drinks (sin tapa), and I have to tip the bartender. Ah, la vida americana.

Sometimes I make this spread here so I can pretend that I am still in Spain. Then I cry.

This glass cost me less than 2 euro in Spain. It would probably cost $7 here!

Even though I have been home for almost as long as the amount of time I spent in Spain, there are still parts of my vida espaneesh that have, surprisingly, stuck with me.  Despite the fact that I was born and raised on American soil, there are some habits that I formed during my 8 months abroad that I am finding hard to break. Some that I have noticed are:

• Sometimes, on Sundays, I still have moments where I think that every business is closed. A few weeks ago my mom said that we had to grocery shopping, and I found myself thinking, "Silly goose, it's Sunday, we can't!.....oh, wait". I just got really used to spending my Sundays lazing about the house (and sleeping off my hangover from the night before) simply because everything was closed. 
• As an American woman, I always used two towels to dry myself after I showered: one for my body, and one for my hair. However, in my Spanish piso, my laundry dried out on a line and sometimes (especially in the winter) it could take a few days. I didn't feel like buying a whole stack of towels, and I didn't feel like washing them constantly, so I become accustomed to only using one towel for a few days at a time. Even though I now have a dryer and an ample supply of towels, I still find myself only using one towel.
• In my school in Spain, if you walked into a classroom or a room, you greeted everyone in the room with either a "Hello" or "Good Day". You never just walked into a room and sat down. If you passed by someone in the hall, it was the same deal. There is no "averting the eyes and pretending that you don't see each other".  This habit became so ingrained that I now do it in my school here in the states, even though (most of the time) I don't get a response.
• After a meal, I find myself craving some kind of sweet. When I used to go to my coordinator's house for lunch, after we finished eating the main course, she would ask me"¿y de postre?" I never used to eat dessert or anything after a meal, but now I always have something (however small)--a piece of chocolate, a cookie, or even--gasp--yoghurt! I think I just got accustomed to having something sweet to end the meal!
• I still feel kind of funny going out in public sweatpants. In Spain, you do not leave your house in sweatpants. EVER. If you leave your house, you make the effort to look polished and at least semi-put together.  Workout clothes are for the gym. Even though I was a big fan of wearing yoga pants out in public before, now it just seems sloppy to me, even though everyone does it.
• I now wear house slippers. Always. I never, ever, everever go barefoot in my house. I just would feel...so naked without my very sexy slippers on. And, I wouldn't want to catch a cold.

What about you? Are there any habits that you have retained from your time abroad?

Thank you!

So, obviously I am not a professional blogger or anything. You can probably tell this because a. this blog is on Blogger and not very fancy b. I only update every once in awhile, and it's usually to talk about myself.

I started this blog as a way to keep my family and friends abreast of my study abroad/teaching abroad experience. So for me, it's pretty cool to have reached 5,000 views! I have no idea who else besides my grandma is reading this blog, but she couldn't have read it 5,000 times (or could she?!) but anyway, I wanted to thank you guys for following my trials and tribulations!

It's pretty neat to know that people from other countries are reading my blog (apparently I have readers from Russia?!) I hope some of my entries have helped you all in some way. Thanks for following my journey.